The Historical Holmes
by AnAthenianAvenoir
Summary: A Sherlock Holmes story, the original Victorian style. A client arrives at the door of 221b Baker Street, but what case will they bring with them?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello all, so this fanfiction is written in the original style of the Sherlock Holmes stories so from Watson's perspective. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing but you already knew that. ;)**

I remember it was a fine autumn morning when a client arrived at the door of 221b Baker Street. The day was crisp and golden as an apple, the wind sharp and brisk. I set down the daily newspaper ad the figure of a statuesque man passed through the threshold of our door.

"Good morning to you," Sherlock looked up from his book, "I hope your trip to Egypt was pleasant?"

The man's mouth fell open in surprise, "Pray tell, how did you know?"

"There are no less than seven traces of Nile silt on your shoes and you have a tan line just at your collar and cuffs, showing that you have, most presumably, embarked on a recent journey to Egypt."

I never creased to be amazed at Holmes' rapid deductions, but nevertheless turned my gaze benignly to the client, "Would you care for some tea? The harsh winds of winter are certainly on their way."

"Yes, yes, thank you very much, that would be very..." he slowed to a pause, not quite meeting my gaze. Finally his wild eyes found me- they were a startling electric blue and stood out from his bronze hair, "I'm Albert. Albert Lancaster."

He then turned to Holmes, "And there's no question who you are, the famed Mister Sherlock Holmes!"

Holmes smiled genially, "Please, enlighten me as to your situation and Dr. Watson and myself will endeavour to help. However, I fear your financial situation is not at its best, taking into account the present state of your bag."

"My-my bag?" Lancaster cast his gaze to his leather bag confusedly, searching in vain for the explanation he sought after.

"Yes," Holmes proceeded, "Once in fine quality, in fact the most expensive, I believe. But now, in its current state of disrepair, it leads me to believe that your once prosperous financial affairs have, regrettably, withered."

Lancaster barked out a laugh but the look in his eyes never left his expression, "Then, my dear sir, what other things can you... see, for want of a better word-"

"-deduce," I proffered, earning a knowing smile from Holmes, "It is indeed possible to make deductions from even the smallest yet explicit of things-"

"Indeed, Dr. Watson is correct. For example, hm let's see... ah, so your personal circumstances have declined along with your financial one, I am sorry to see that. Forgive my boldness but I can tell that you've lost a lover from your wristwatch. Yes, it is of German making, and if angled in a certain angle and light you can see the name 'Maria' quite clearly engraved on it. Alas, the watch remarkably faded now, not to mention broken. It's quarter past ten, not quarter to ten- and if she was still in your life than would she not have seen to it that a replacement was made rather than let you wear such a wristwatch?"

The air hung still and I turned to Lancaster who stared at his watch but I knew in his mind there was something else. The only sound in the room was the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth that Mrs. Hudson had lighted and I was glad of its warmth; it was a while before Holmes spoke again but this time there was a gentler nuance to his voice, "But what is the reason for your coming here today? I trust it it to be one of great importance."

Lancaster nodded slowly, his features set in a conflicted expression and eyes alight with something more than fear or the reflection from the fire. He drew up a chair beside the fireplace and sat down defeatedly, bronze hair glinting and fiery in the light of the flames behind him.

"Very well then, I suppose I should begin my story."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Greetings to thee, thou hast foundeth the second instalment to the story! (Yes I know that was more Shakespeare than Sherlock.) Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and to answer a question I received: thanks for the information I wasn't really aware of it; no Lancaster is not a military man but I think a reasonable explanation would be that, since women frequently wore wristwatches more than men, it could've originally belonged to Maris before she made some amendments (engraving, sizing, etc.) and gifted it to Lancaster. Now this would imply not so prosperous financial circumstances on her part but I think that, to Lancaster at least, the sentiment would've been worth more than the value. Anyway, sorry for the long author's note, please enjoy!**

"It...it happened faster than any human mind could comprehend. One second-" he brandished a single finger, shaking his head as if still in disbelief of what happened, "One second and she was snatched from me. My wealth was snatched from me. My honour, my status-"

I leaned in closer, closer to the flames of the hearth, closer to the tale spiralling from the lips of this most peculiar client. His descriptions were certainly unusual, criminal activity intricate in even the slightest detail would require more than a second to be executed. A gunshot perhaps?

"What happened, dear sir?" Holmes pressed him, rising from his seat and assuming a position closer to Lancaster, "The truth I can work with, elaboration is not necessary."

Lancaster shot a gaze that spoke of flames and fury at him and I was unnerved, most clients Holmes and I had encountered were fearful, perhaps grieving but we had never seen the sort of anger that was set in his his expression now. I looked to Holmes, anticipating his response and relying upon his cold reasoning to temper the fire.

"The facts, if you please, then perhaps I can be of some assistance to you. If you would prefer not to then I am afraid there was no purpose of you coming here today."

Lancaster closed his eyes, raising his hand to his forehead to steady the thoughts in his mind.

"You say you found traces of Nile silt on my shoes?"

"Indeed," Holmes nodded.

"The your - deduction - was correct," Lancaster gave a crooked smile, "Your other one, perhaps not."

Intrigued, Holmes and I regarded him with some bemusement. Error was not something familiar to Holmes, but nevertheless he smiled, "Oh is that so? May you tell me which one?"

"Maria. We had made amends, some admittedly more sincere than others, and agreed to reunite. So, in some way, my 'personal circumstances' were perhaps improving," the corners of his mouth lifted slightly at the thought, "But then.."

He trailed off into a silence and which he didn't resurface from for a moment, instead turning his gaze to look into the flickering flames in the hearth, "Then the unimaginable happened."


End file.
